come undone (surrender is stronger)
by afastmachine
Summary: (Very) smutty PWP. Includes handcuffs, dirty talk, teasing, voyeurism, masturbation, and chair sex.


For these two smutty tumblr prompts; "I've never done it that way before, but..." and "I want to hear you scream." from scheherezade06 and captainsexychest respectively. Also inspired by certain spoiler pictures but not spoilery in any way at all(I wish!).

* * *

Emma is not nervous. Not even a little bit. Not with his heavy breathing the only sound in the room, aside from the clank of the handcuffs as she works them through the back of the chair.

He huffs out a small breath when she clicks the metal cuff around his wrist and the leather of his brace.

"What's so funny?" She rises up behind him and settles her arms over his shoulders, leaning against his cheek. She easily slips her fingers under the collar of his shirt, sliding the first button open.

"Well," he begins, his voice a lazy drawl, "I've never done this quite like this before, but I suppose for you I can."

Rolling her eyes, Emma moves down to the next button.

"Right, because it's gonna be _so horrible_ for you," she murmurs in his ear, shifting back around to stand in front of him.

He smirks as she crouches down and finishes undoing his shirt, pushing it until his chest is exposed and the shirt barely hangs off his shoulders.

"Just wait and see who's going to have problems with it, love. Just wait and see."

She snorts, moving down to his belt, which she quickly undoes and strips out of its loops, tossing it aside.

"Careful, we might need that later." His voice has gone low and throaty, and it's no surprise, because she's cupping him through his pants, one hand unbuttoning and then unzipping his trousers agonizingly slow. She can't help but grin at his reaction, the subtle tremor in his bones.

"For what?"

"Well, you only have one pair of handcuffs, darling," he murmurs, and then gasps when she slips her hand inside his pants to grasp him firmly. "Emma," he grits out, his voice thin like a tripwire and all too delicious sounding. She pretends she hasn't heard him, though, slowly sliding him out of his pants. He chokes on a sound as she shifts her hand, gently sliding it up and down his cock, brushing her thumb against the head with every movement. It doesn't take long to get him panting and his hips shifting under her, gently bucking into her hand.

She's torn, between leaving him like this, and giving him just a little more. He makes up her mind for her when he growls, a rough, raw sound that does little to ease the ache between her own legs. Flickering her eyes up to his, she's unsurprised to see the pure lust there, the desire burning up in his gaze.

So she does what any reasonable woman with a tied-down man would do; she shoves his knees apart, leans forward on her toes, and presses her mouth against his cock.

He gasps, hips bucking up, a motion she quickly halts with a hand on his hips.

"Down, boy," she murmurs, and opens her mouth wide, slowly sliding him inside. He grunts and shifts restlessly.

"I'm afraid you're making that rather difficult, love," her grits out, and she laughs around him. It only serves to make him stiffen under her fingers, cock throbbing hotly inside her mouth as she drags her tongue against the vein on the bottom.

"_Emma_," he whines, his voice slipping desperately. As much as she wants to continue this, it isn't the plan at all, so she slowly slips off of him, pulling away to stand and take him in

He looks perfect. His hair, perpetually tousled, matches the flush in his cheeks, his wide eyes that want to devour her alive. The way his arms are pressed behind his back makes his shoulders look marvelous, his chest pushed out. His shirt hangs off his shoulders, revealing the dark hair that covers his chest and trails down his abdomen, leading straight to his hard cock where it proudly juts out of his pants. She nudges his leg, spreading them wider, and he tilts his head back, a small sound escaping him at the movement. God, he looks delicious like this, so hot she might actually spontaneously combust just from looking at him. And that's the plan, anyways.

"Emma," he groans, her name, always her name. "Just _do it_," he hisses, blinking at the ceiling and taking a deep breath before he turns back to her.

She pouts, and he growls. It only makes her grin. "What if I like looking at you like this?"

He curses and rattles the handcuffs that hold him down.

"Later, darling. _Later._"

He's got a point, so she complies, taking the single step back to the bed and sitting down. She eases off her boots and then her pants, shimming out of them and leaving them on the floor where they fall. His eyes are on her bare legs, she can feel them, trying to burn into her skin, but she ignores it. She lifts her shirt and tosses it aside, scooting back onto the bed so she can lay flat.

It's been a while since she's done this; ever since they started seeing each other, there's really been not much need for it. Still, she flattens her hands on her chest and draws them down her waist, catching her panties and pushing them past her knees as she draws them up. She eases them off, balancing the underwear on her foot before tossing it in his direct. Much to her surprise(and delight), it lands in his lap.

"Fuck," he curses again, and takes a deep breath.

"Oh, are you having _problems_?" she asks, lowering her voice into a sultry murmur.

He fixes his bleary eyes on her and shakes his head. She doesn't miss it when his gaze slips from her face and travels down between her legs where she's exposed, practically on a platter for him if he wasn't handcuffed to the chair.

She moans a little and slides her hands down her thighs, shifting her hips into the mattress. Slowly, she drags them back up her body, palming her breasts roughly through her bra. She tweaks a nipple and arches her back up a little. He doesn't make a sound and she glances down her body at him. His shoulders are taut, and she can only imagine the way his hand is clenched into a fist. A muscle in his jaw jumps, giving away the way he's clenching it tightly.

Her eyes trail down his body, following the path of least resistance, drifting her hands down her own body as she takes in his. By the time she finds his cock, she's reached between her own legs, and she licks her lips hungrily, eyes flickering to his for just a second before she shifts slightly and returns her gaze to between his legs.

Moving almost delicately, she slips a hand between her legs and rubs a single finger against her clit, the soft pressure enough to elicit a small moan from her. She lets her hand drift lower, spreading herself open for him to see, rubbing her fingers against her entrance without slipping inside. She looks at his cock, imagines it instead of her fingers. Remembers it. Slowly, she presses two fingers inside of herself, rocking her hips back and forth on them.

The shift in his breathing is loud in the quiet room, and she chuckles, pumping her fingers in and out. Letting her knees fall wide on either side of her, she adds her other hand, circling her clit while she fucks herself on her fingers.

He says her name once, voice rough and battered as though he's been screaming or was just choked, and the thought sends another burst of heat through her. She did that to him. Made him sound so wrecked, so torn apart.

She curls her fingers and braces her legs, shifting her hips so she can properly ride her fingers. It's good, but it's nothing compared to him, nothing compared to the thick press of his cock. She slides a third finger in to join the others, and her hips stutter. Better, but still not enough. Her gaze flickers to him again, locking on his cock. God, she wants him. But not yet, not yet.

He flexes his arms, testing the strength of the handcuffs, or perhaps the wood they're looped around. She doesn't miss the way he growls at the resistance.

"C'mere, Emma, come on, just crawl over here and unlock these, I promise I'll give you a ride you won't forget," he leers, pulling on his shoulders. "I see the way you're looking at me, you want _me_, those fingers just aren't cutting it, right?"

She groans, unsure if she wants him to shut up or never shut up. Either way, she pumps her fingers in and out of her harder, faster as she circles her clit at the same pace.

"Gods, you're practically dripping, love, all for me."

She refuses to look him in the eyes, instead fixating on his body, the muscles shifting under his skin, across his chest and abdomen. Inevitably, she ends back up between his legs. He doesn't miss it, and rocks his hips, cock bobbing before her very eyes.

"Is that what you want, sweetheart? My cock inside you? It would be miles better than your fingers, I can promise that. So much better."

"_Killian_," she snaps, but it feels rather ineffective when she follows it up with a deep groan, twisting her fingers deep inside of her. She thumbs harder at her clit, so close, and fucks her hips up violently, curling her fingers with every thrust.

"That's right Emma, fuck yourself like that, imagine it's me instead."

"Shut up," she gasps, but he doesn't.

"Come for me, come on my fingers, c'mon love."

"_No_," she whimpers in reply, but it's too late, too late because she's already spasming and coming, crying out harshly. The last thing she sees is his smug look, and then she's snapping her eyes closed, chasing the sensation, flying so high she never wants to come down. She slows her fingers, gentles herself, but it still feels amazing, stretching out. A moan slips between her lips, and she hears him grunt, a desperate feral sound.

She comes down slowly, easing her hands back across her stomach, leaving a wet trail in their wake. She tries to catch her breath, snuggling down into the mattress comfortably.

"Love," his voice wheedles, breaking her out of her comfortable moment. Slowly she sits up, looking back at him. Maybe it's because she just came, maybe it's because of the way he's struggled, maybe it's not anything at all, but god, he looks even worse than before. His eyes are wide, and she can hardly see the sliver of blue in them as they rake hungrily over her nearly naked body. His chest is heaving, though not as badly as hers, and if possible, he looks even harder, cock swollen red and straining.

"That doesn't look comfortable," she says, smirking.

He growls, baring his teeth. "It _isn't_. Now get over here and let me out."

She shrugs, reaching behind her to finally undo her bra and let it drop from her shoulders. Throwing it aside, she scoots forward on the bed and lets her feet drop to the floor.

"I don't know. You weren't supposed to say anything." She narrows her eyes and stands.

"Oh, don't be like that. You seemed to enjoy it."

Raising an eyebrow she plants herself firmly in front of him, bracing her hands on his knees as she leans forward. "Doesn't matter. You broke the rules."

"Barely. Come on, Emma," he says, half begging, half demanding. "Get rid of these bloody cuffs." He twists in the chair and leans forward as much as he can, stretching his neck enough to brush her cheek. "I'll make it worth it," he murmurs, kissing all he can reach.

"No. I don't think I will," she replies, stepping forward. Anger simmers in his eyes and he yanks his arms again.

"Emma!"

"Mmmm, I like the way that sounds." Gripping his jaw with one hand, she leans forward. "Wouldn't mind hearing you scream it."

He scoffs, trying to tear himself out of her grip. "I believe that's _your_ department, love."

Moving just close enough to brush their lips together, she shifts her legs, stepping outside of his just enough so that she can sink down onto his lap.

"I don't know," she whispers. "You're awfully loud sometimes. Emma this, Emma that, gods, Emma, _just like that_," she mimics him, sliding her free hand across his chest, down his stomach, circling his cock and squeezing. His eyes flutter, and he lets out a small needy sound.

"Emma," he says hoarsely.

"Yeah, just like that," she agrees, and presses a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth. "Just like that."

He looks at her, eyes bleary and lust-clouded.

"Just like that," he repeats, and rocks his hips into her hand, chasing the small amount of friction it gives him. She slips her hand up and slides her thumb across the head, pulling away precum. Glancing between them, she moves her hand up and down, slowly jacking him off.

"Emma," he whines, his voice shaking. "You, need _you_, not your bloody fucking _hand_."

She would correct him on his language, but already she feels on fire again, abdomen swirling in heat. His breath hitches when she raises herself and lines his cock up against her, pressing down slow at first and then all at once.

"_Fuck_, _Emma_," he gasps, yells hoarsely. Yeah. Just like that. He breathes roughly, body shivering and shaking. "_Fuck_," he mutters under his breath, and shifts his hips lightly, testing himself.

He winces and his eyes flutter shut. "Fuck, Emma, so close," he whispers blindly, pressing his forehead against her cheek.

"Good," she murmurs, and starts to move. He cries up when she rises up, and groans when she sinks back down, her name a jumbled mess stumbling from his lips, along with a few choice curses.

He was right; his cock is _so much better_ than her fingers. He fills her up and stretches her so deliciously, especially like this. She rocks her hips, and he exhales hard, chasing her lips down and capturing them, kissing her hard. He slips his tongue against her lips, bucks his hips unexpectedly to make her moan, and plunges forward into her mouth.

It doesn't take very long before he's getting even more vocal, tearing away from her lips to press into her shoulder, muttered oaths and curses skittering across her skin. She slips a hand between them as she rocks up, and presses against her clit, rubbing firm circles as he starts to come under her. He groans, long and low, and cries out her name, teeth sinking into whatever skin he can reach. She flutters, starting her own descent, and he cries out again, a broken sound as she comes, tight around him, milking every last second of both their pleasures.

She hadn't realized how tense he'd been until he relaxes, slumping back against the chair, completely sated. Burrowing into his chest, she curls around him, content as well. Long minutes pass as they come back to themselves and begin to breathe normally.

"Fuck," he mutters, and it's all Emma can do to nod her head. "Emma," he gently prods, all the demanding tone drained away, "handcuffs, please?"

She whimpers; she doesn't really want to get up and get the key, but she figures she probably owes him that. Standing on shaky legs, she manages to totter over to the bedside table where the key sits. Snatching it up, she returns to him and crouches behind is back, quickly twisting his wrists free. She lets the cuffs clatter to the floor, and he brings his arms around slowly, bending them on his knees as he leans forward, stretching his back.

"Gods, let's be sure we never do this in a _wooden_ chair again, love," he mutters, shifting his shoulders and listening to the crack in his spine.

She raises her eyebrows and comes around, crouching in front of him, massaging the feeling back into his hand. "So you want to do it again?"

He grins, a little cracked at the edges, and she knows that look.

"Only if I get to tie you up this time."

She shrugs. "We'll see," and helps him to his feet. He curls his arms around her.

"Yes, we will," he murmurs, holding her close. "C'mon," he whispers eventually, pulling away from her to drag the over to the bed. He quickly shrugs the shirt off his shoulders, and shoves his pants down his hips before pulling her into the bed with him. They go down in a tangle, and roll until it's marginally better.

Tucking her head against his chest again, she lets out a deep breath.

"I love you," she says, eyes fluttering sleepily.

"Yeah, I love me too," he whispers, and she doesn't even have the energy to hit him like he deserves. But he smiles into her hair and wraps his arm around her. "I love you as well, Emma," he says, and that's good enough for her, the last thing she hears before letting sleep take her under.


End file.
